


Come Take A Walk On The Wild Side

by 999blackflowers



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Body Positivity, F/F, Fingering, Headcanon Exploration, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Infidelity, Lesbian Sex, Queer awakening, haha i fucked your mom, trigger warnings within
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25648066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/999blackflowers/pseuds/999blackflowers
Summary: Let me kiss you in hard the pouring rain, you like your girls insane.Emmy takes Brenda out for a lovely weekend, and Brenda finds herself for the very first time in the other woman's arms.
Relationships: Emmy Altava/Brenda Triton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Come Take A Walk On The Wild Side

**Author's Note:**

> A/N from 999blackflowers: Hello, I just dropped my f-list to my friends and asked them to make me write something and they decided on vaginal fingering, then I decided to write a Good Ship for once. I wrote this listening to Born to Die by Lana Del Rey because I thought it had good vibes. I also wanted to explore some general headcanons regarding Emmy and Brenda. Brenda deals with crushing alcoholism post-Spectre and although she loved Clark it's sort of died thanks to the whole incident, she's meant to be bisexual here discovering hey, maybe she's gay. Congrats Brenda! Leave him! Emmy here is doing her routine of seducing rich married supposedly heterosexual women to fuck, but I'd like to think Brenda is who she settles for.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> Infidelity  
> Alcoholism Mention  
> Negative Body Image

Brenda honestly couldn’t remember a time she’d had this much fun. She had expected a girl’s weekend with the woman Emmy Altava more than anything, it had been so long. They didn’t know each other very well, in fact she met her while checking up on Luke over a phone call, seeing as Professor Layton wasn’t picking up that day. Her baby was doing just fine, apparently. There might have been hesitation in her voice, but then Emmy had gently asked her if she was free over the weekend.

Perhaps she didn’t want to spend another weekend miserable and staring at the bottom of her third wine glass that day. Being locked in her own wine cellar for half a year with nothing to do and no rescue in sight was  _ miserable  _ and certainly called into question how much her husband loved her. Their marriage was already stale and parenting done out of obligation before anything resembling dedication or determination to raise a child. Passing her baby off to someone who would take care of him better than she ever could hurt, but it was perhaps the best decision. Alcoholism was crushing but perhaps easier to live with than confronting any of her material problems.

The weekend had started with Emmy taking her on her scooter to the hangar and landing/takeoff strip where she kept her plane one Saturday morning. She had been only happy to wake up that morning, even decided to not drink before heading out that morning. The scooter was bumpy and she almost got Emmy’s hair in her mouth, but it had been exhilitaring. The plane ride had been even more terrifying at first, but once they’d gotten high enough her fear miraculously evaporated.

Then lunch at a lavish cafe where Emmy had paid for the whole thing, and she managed to get by ordering a coffee for herself rather than a glass of wine. Then a lovely short walk along a nature trail where they reached a waterfall by twilight. Something very surprising happened there which set the rest of the day into context, Emmy had kissed her.

The flutter in her heart and the heat in her veins as she buried her fingers in the woman’s beautiful curly hair and kissed her back as hard as she possibly could. It hurt so much much, it felt so good. She shook and held the kiss until she felt as if she couldn’t breathe anymore. Brenda couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy to be near someone.

Emmy’s energy, her eyes, everything about her. She was about her age yet so unhindered, so wild and alive. Unstoppable. Brenda recognized this was intense infatuation, and there was a good chance it’d fade in time. And technically she was cheating on her husband, but for the time she honestly didn’t care. And perhaps she was horrible for that, but surely no more horrible than being left to drink herself into a stupor for months on end in a dark room.

The hotel room they booked after dinner was lavish as expected, five stars and with complimentary breakfast in the morning. It had been a long day though, and Emmy set down the bags on the beige carpet to rub her eyes.

“Oh, Emmy.” The phrase had been echoing in Brenda’s mind all day, but she combed her fingers through her own hair in wonder as the woman shot her a sly wink. “Are we sharing a bed?” Indeed, the room they’d booked did only have one bed. Chocolate covered duvet and cream coloured pillows.

“Of course, Angel, let me just have a shower.” Emmy purred. “I’ll be out in a bit.”

The woman shut the door and Brenda went to grab her bag, hoping to slip into her pyjamas. It was a simple faded velvet nightgown Clark got her once, when she was younger. She didn’t feel very pretty these days, and although she felt once upon a time the dress accentuated her breasts, looking into her reflection in a full length mirror, her mind raced over all her imperfections.

Her arms could be slimmer. Her thighs had cellulite, her tummy stuck out further than her breasts which were beginning to sag ever so slightly, or maybe that was just her imagination. She had forgotten to shave her legs or under her armpits, as well. She felt like a useless slob and horrible excuse for a wife, a lot.

Keeping an underwire bra on even in bed made her breasts look better, she thought. Surely Emmy wouldn’t think much of it. Crawling onto the bed, she propped herself up with some pillows to reach for the television remote left in the bedside table. Turning on the television, she mulled over what Clark must be thinking.

It’s not like she wanted to sleep with him anymore, anyway. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had sex that was actually  _ fun  _ for that matter, was sex  _ meant  _ to be fun? Having her beloved on top of her thrusting into her  _ should  _ seem fun and sexy.

Letting herself lay into the pillows and blankly staring at the television screen, the door to the bathroom opened. Emmy moved around the corner and leaned on the wall to display herself, somehow taking Brenda’s breath away.

A red frilly brasserie bra pushing her breasts up and together, some thin red panties and garterbelt stockings. Brenda tried to hide her flushed face, grabbing a pillow and pulling her weakening knees up, pushing them together.

“M… Miss Altava.”

“You don’t need to be shy, Angel, I’m going to take care of you.” Emmy gently cooed, moving to kneel on the bed. 

Brenda let Emmy put the pillow aside, the woman’s slim hand going to her cheek. She leaned into it and let the woman speak to her.

“You really are beautiful, you know.” Emmy spoke in an ever so soft whisper. Brenda looked her straight in the eye, biting her lip. She didn’t believe it, she couldn’t. When was the last time someone had called her beautiful? 

“You don’t need to say that.” Brenda felt a nervous giggling fit coming on, but Emmy gently took the hem of her nightgown.

“Let’s see about that, then.” Emmy lifted the gown over her head slowly, and Brenda felt the instinct to fold her arms around her stomach. 

Emmy decided to start by reaching back to the clasp of Brenda’s bra, who squirmed but did not stop her. Her breasts hit cool air and Emmy slid her hands up her pudgy belly to take them to squeeze.

“M… miss.” Brenda’s face was hot, her whole body felt hot. 

“Now, these are pretty beautiful.” Emmy gazed at her with hooded eyes, moving in to kiss them. One hand went into her panties, stroking over her surprisingly soft curls and then over her lips. 

Brenda let her head lay back as the woman moved up from her breasts to her chest, collarbone, resting on her neck to suck and kiss. A finger slipped inside her labia, and her wetness became apparent.

“How long has it been since someone’s made you feel good? Like a woman?” Emmy moved to her ear to chew on her earlobe, drawing a wince from Brenda’s lips.

“I can’t remember.” Brenda breathed. Emmy pushed the panties down her legs to properly gain access to her clit.

“You poor, poor angel.” Emmy whispered, a coddling sympathy in her voice. Brenda might have been offended if her husband didn’t do the same, but worse.

Brenda let herself lay back into the cushioned pillows, taking a moment to admire Emmy’s body. Her breasts were  _ so  _ large, she wanted to bury her face between them or use them as pillows. She wanted to stroke her curves and grasp her thick thighs with light stretch marks decorating them. Her belly was so slightly rounded, ever so slightly squishable.

“ _ You’re  _ beautiful.” Brenda breathed until Emmy grasped one of her breasts, and pushed one of her legs aside to easier rub her clit. 

Using three fingers, she began to rub circles into it and watched Brenda’s eyelids flutter, her chest beginning to heave as her breath became faster and heavier. Brenda took one of her nipples to pinch and play with, making Emmy giggle.

“Would you like something more, honey?” Emmy whispered, a smirk on her lips. 

“Yes-!” Brenda exhaled and gasped, and within a moment Emmy slipped her middle finger inside her velvety entrance.

Even the thin penetration hurt for a moment, but somehow it drove her further. Brenda’s skin felt so hot, she felt like her heart was burning. Rolling her hips down into the bed, she bit her lip. 

Emmy pushed in a second finger and carefully rubbed her inner walls, and within moments Brenda was shaking and shivering, her back arched as her orgasm finally rocked her. 

She withdrew her fingers and leaned down to press her lips to Brenda’s, who threw her arms around her neck. Neither of them breathed for ages as they gripped each other desperately, in each other’s hair, back of the head, neck, back, tongues dancing and lips locked. 

When they pulled away, there was no need for words. Brenda huddled to push her cheek to Emmy’s breasts as she unclasped the uncomfortable bra, pushing back the duvet and the sheets so they could properly snuggle underneath. 

Brenda locked her legs around Emmy’s waist, a position that she knew would get uncomfortable quite quickly, but she wanted to be as close to her as possible.

“Would you like to do this again some other weekend?” Emmy whispered by her ear. 

“Please.” Brenda breathed, staring up into her eyes. “I’m free any day. Any day. Ask and I’m free.”

“Well, we could go on a more proper date.” Emmy carded her fingers through the woman’s long hair. “We could do high tea.”

“Oh, dear, that’s terribly expensive.”

“So is plane fuel, love.”

“Wh- what do I tell Clark? Oh dear.”

“You don’t tell him anything.”

That was probably immoral. Kissing a woman was immoral enough, oh dear, Brenda thought. She had cheated. This was an affair. But maybe Clark did deserve it, just a little.

“Unless you want to tell him.” Emmy reminded her gently. “We could run off into the sunset after telling him, if you’d like. That’s a viable option.”

“Well, I’d like to see how this plays out first.” Brenda decided, receiving a kiss on her forehead, then on her eyelids. She had never felt so at home.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Emmy is going to tell Luke she's fucked his mom. And she will be correct.


End file.
